Our First Winter Away
by Kiba Sniper
Summary: Months later, the former inmates find peace in snowfall, hot cocoa, and each other.


Written for the Psychonauts Secret Santa 2018.

Our First Winter Away

"You know, seeing snowflakes on this side of the lake really makes 'em special," Fred said, glancing at Gloria's window.

Gloria nodded, resting her hand on her heart as he continued to massage her shoulders. "Oh, yes. It might even be a white Whispering Rock."

Chuckling, Fred set two fingers to his temple and telekinetically parted Gloria's linen curtains. He tucked two of her potted plants on the fabric, pinning the curtains to the sides to give them a better view of the fluttering snowflakes. Gray tints and darker clouds painted the sky. The crisp, gentle breeze brought in a pinch of distant sea salt to Gloria's office. A few snowflakes landed on her roses, melting and rolling down the bulbs

Gloria gently patted her left shoulder, and Fred continued kneading it. She fixed her scarlet shawl around her head and relaxed in her leather rolling chair. Crossing her ankles, Gloria sighed and fiddled with the yarn threads at the end of her shawl as Fred smoothed out the crinks in her neck.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway of their counselor building, and Edgar ambled into her office. He tugged off his winter coat, bits of snow falling onto the floorboards. Brushing his fingers through his hair, he rubbed snowflakes into his scalp and shivered.

"It's a lot colder than expected, huh? I didn't think it was gonna be so chilly," Fred said, and Edgar folded his jacket onto Gloria's coat rack.

"Oh, yes. The wind feels nice up here when the window's barely open, but the moment you step outside..." Edgar punched his fist into his open palm. "...bam! The wind really starts nipping at your nose."

Gloria laughed. "Oh, stop, dear. It can't be so bad outside."

He snorted. "When you go out there for yourself and help some campers dig up arrowheads, then you will know what I mean."

"I would, but I just have so much paperwork." Gloria gestured at her oak desk where manilla folders were splayed out. Various papers full of confidential camper information were open for any wandering eye.

"And that's why I'm giving her a little massage. She's been hunched over this desk all day," Fred piped up, and Gloria thanked him, tilting her head back to him. He rolled his back and stretched, letting Gloria return to her paperwork.

Edgar hummed. "I wasn't aware that you gave massages, Fred." He gestured at his back. "Mind giving me one? I've been bending over all day helping those cheerleader kids work that arrowhead finder, and it's made my back pretty sore."

"Oh, the dowsing rod? Yeah, it's pretty fickle," Fred replied, and Edgar sat down in the chair in front of Gloria's desk. Rolling up the sleeves of his green sweater, Fred gently dug his knuckles against Edgar's sturdy shoulder. He traced down Edgar's back, applying pressure in spots he found tense.

Edgar melted in his seat, lacing his fingers by his stomach. "Oh, that's nice. No wonder Gloria was monopolizing you all for herself."

Gloria waved a pen at his face. "Well, you were outside, Edgar. I saw my chance, and I took it."

"Hey, hey, there's always gonna be plenty of Fred Bonaparte to go around." Fred snickered as Edgar straightened, giving him more access to knead his strong back. "Also, I gotta say, Edgar, the camp shirt looks great on ya."

Edgar glanced down at his brilliant orange shirt. It was stretched out yet remained tight around his arms. He heard Gloria whistle, a hollow puff of air with a fainting hiss at the end. Tugging his longs sleeves, Edgar grinned and flexed, his strong muscles pressing against the fabric and threatening to tear it.

"I still got it," Edgar said, and Gloria and Fred clapped over the sight, their eyes wide with delight. "Arms strong for embracing my beloveds, and yet, controlled enough to keep this shirt from ripping."

"Hey, are you guys doing a gun show in here without me?"

They turned their attention to the front door as Boyd lumbered inside. He held a wooden coffee tray with four piping hot cups of cocoa. Melted marshmallows were sprinkled inside, and hints of steam rose from the cups. He shook his head, and his hood fell off, the fake fur tickling the sides of his neck.

"Oh, hey, Boyd! You got us hot chocolate? Thanks!" Fred took the platter and set it on Gloria's table, and Gloria shifted her paperwork back into the folders. He took the closest cup as the others picked their drinks.

"Ford was making some for the kids in the lodge, and he gave some extras to me," Boyd said only for his lips to grimace. "He didn't recognize me and thought I was an intruder for a few minutes, but that one kid who lived in the outhouse got him to remember me. That old coot almost tossed an entire mug of joe at me when I kept trying to explain myself."

"D'art didn't live in the outhouse. Milla told me they were just too shy to come out and socialize with the others," Gloria said, wrapping a napkin around her cup.

"Or they just really like outhouses," Fred added, shrugging.

Edgar inhaled the rich scent of chocolate as they discussed the mysterious camper. While he preferred coffee with hints of skim milk, hot cocoa was his second best beverage. He took a ginger sip and sighed, the taste sublime. The subtle pinch of creamer within the cocoa made the drink, and he took another sip in unison with the others.

"Mmm! My goodness, it's delicious. I've been forgoing hot chocolate for much too long," Gloria said, cupping the drink with both hands, enjoying the sense of warmth in her palms.

"Yeah, you tea drinkers forget the good stuff," Boyd teased, and Gloria chuckled, inclining her head in a short nod.

Fred strutted over to the window, grasping the cup and watching the marshmallow bits swirl in the center. He shook his drink, and the marshmallows parted towards the cup's rim. Lifting his gaze to the window, Fred watched the last of the seagulls fly south for the budding winter.

"I'm glad we're here," Fred said, and he gestured outside. "It's so much better over in this neck of the woods than it was on that dank asylum."

"Light-years better," Edgar replied, taking another sip.

Boyd followed up to Fred and stared outside. They saw gaggles of children, new campers and old, running down dirt paths and beginning snowball fights. Their laughter and gossip echoed in cabin area. Even Agent Nein was relaxing, resting his back against Oleander's treehouse for a smoke break. When a few campers pelted his side with snowballs, Fred and Boyd snickered as he telekinetically fired back with his usual stoic expression.

Gloria traced the rim of her cup with her polished fingernail. "It's nice hearing them all be so excited. Giggling and running around and having the time of their lives in the fresh air, how wonderful."

"And we can enjoy it, too," Boyd said, glancing over to her.

Gloria smiled, the corners of her lips wrinkling as she took another sip. Exhaling a slow sigh, she leaned back in her seat. "Yes, my dears. We really can."

Taking other seats around Gloria, Fred and Boyd joined Edgar and her. They chatted about upcoming courses they would be teaching for the winter session with Boyd and his clairvoyance and Edgar with his confusion. With their moods light and merry and bodies full of warmth, the pain of the asylum faded from their minds as snowy freedom surrounded them.


End file.
